Catalan Elections Part Deux: Independence or Bust

Yawn… what? Oh, yeah. The Catalan livestock is again being rounded up for shearingmilkingcutting elections a mere two years after the last elections. Two years? Wait, aren’t political sinecures meant to last four years? WhattheheyisGOINGON?

Right. I know these aren’t your garden-variety morning erections, but more of a blue pill-driven affair, so you can stop bleating at me. This ain’t about which dawg gets the top herd-management seat, but about our collective independence as livestock, don’t you see. The Catalan sheep, always a bit bleatier than the rest, now want their corral to be fenced off so they can suckee fckee exclusively for their own dawgs. Now ain’t that special.

Context: two years ago Artur “Lord Farquaad” Mas was erected President of Catalonia on the promise that he would negotiate for more control of the purse strings. After two years of public rebuffals in Madrid and following the massive manifestations of the past September 11th, Mas saw the light and decided to toss down the gauntlet, setting early elections on the 25th of November 2012 for the people of Catalonia to decide which path to follow: independence, federalism or same ol’ same ol’. Each option is backed by one or more parties, and the polls right now give a comfortable majority to the independence parties who would presumably form coalition to re-elect Mas. The opposition would comprise the same ol’ parties and the socialist federalist option would go in the sand box with the lincoln logs.

It’s been a low-down, slimeball campaign of the most nauseating calibre. Not a single mention of the crisis, austerity measures or solutions were made… not one! If one weren’t a lobotomized grazer, it would almost seem as if there were a secret pact between Barcelona and Madrid to make Catalan independence the perfect smokescreen to hide the austerity to come. Each side gets to wrap themselves in their flag and get the grazers all hot and bothered with bullshit platitudes while the transfer of wealth continues unabated from the bleaters to the banksters. The grinding merry-go-round of democrazy keeps turning, but some of us have stepped off the ride and you wouldn’t believe how fake it looks from outside.

You are here

Just to give you an idea of how un-everything this campaign’s been, the big issue has been a leaked document suggesting Artur Mas may have beaucoup ducats stashed away in a Swiss cheese. The leak has not been traced nor the authenticity of the alleged police report confirmed, so it’s just pure slime of the kind Madrid is so fondle of. However, considering how spectacular the backfire has been, it may have been Mas himself who put out the false rumor to confound his opponents and get the martyr vote. I wouldn’t put it past him, he is a politico animal on a mission from bob and will stop at nothing except his right to be the biggest dawg in the smallest pawnd.

So tomorrow we vote, and turn a blank page in the book of his story. The beginning of this story has been told before, and previous endings have been rather gruesome. Spanish President Ratjoy (in Spanish rodent molester) may have put the single dab of truth of the whole campaign when he said: “make no mistake, this election is more important than the general elections”. Indeed, if the Catalan chain gang breaks free, ain’t nobody gonna be clearing them weeds off those there highways and all that, and the sheriff is not amenable to such an arrangement. So we got ourselves a little problem…. Now, I’m not saying it’s going to be 1936 all over again, but don’t be overly surprised if it becomes just that. It’s not his story repeating, it’s the same story that has yet to end.

And to all the bleaters who say “if you don’t vote, you can’t complain” I say horseshit. All you voters who legitimate the system that feeds off you by participating in the sham of democrazy, you’re the ones who can shut your flaps and take it up the asset like the sheep you are. So enjoy your erections, cause they’re few and far between and always end too soon, with a whimper not a bang.